Skyrim Ceremonials
by FanGirlofEverythingAwesome
Summary: After acting as Ulfric's Angel of Death to command, Kaitja is forced to assist the ever growing Thieves Guild in order to win back Ulfric's favor. Her journey will reveal the demonic power behind her rule as Ulfric's right hand and connect her back to her humanity and – consequently - love, once believed to be lost forever. Song-Fic to Florence and the Machine's Ceremonials!
1. Chapter 1, Seven Devils

So after listening to the Ceremonials album nearly 100 times, I thought that the themes the songs were about fit perfectly into the plot line that had been rolling about in the back of my mind since I began to play the wonderful, life absorbing game that is Skyrim. I'm just throwing this out there sooooo reviews are unexplainably appreciated because the idea may be working well in my head.. but the translation to the printed word is _desperately_ lacking.

PS: The lyrics are bolded BUT they may not be perfectly word for word because I had to change them to fit into the sentence/idea – thingy…. thoughts are italicized (woah that's a hard word to spell. Took me a couple tries with spellcheck).Oh, I also want to apologize in advance for a couple choice words. I'm not sure if it enough to warrant a mature rating, but you have been warned, it's less then what they say in the game!

A slight figure walked along the edge of a cliff overlooking a giant field; a field in which history would be made. The figure stopped, her carmine eyes grazing the horizon, assessing the numbers of her enemies, her mind formulating the perfect battle strategy she would use to destroy them. Oh, how foolish they were. How dare they attempt to go up against her.

"**Holy water cannot help you now**, Emperor," she whispered softly to the wind, her eyes narrowed in disgust of the opposing unit. The inexorable power of Purity couldn't stop the annihilation that would soon take place. Once in motion, her plans were always too strong to be stopped. "**A thousand armies couldn't keep me out. I don't want your money. I don't want your crown**." She spat on the ground after thinking about the detestable Imperials and their wealth and influence – and how they achieved it. The Stormcloaks didn't need what the outsiders had to offer. Skyrim could only be great when it was finally free of the damned Imperials. Until then, she would not rest until the wishes of Ulfric, her lord and master, were fulfilled. She began the ascent down to the encampment, where the commanders of the Stormcloaks strongest seven units were discussing their trivial opinions on how to win this battle. No matter, she would eventually make them see sense. She always made them follow her advice. With a smirk she cast one last glance at the Imperial camp.

"**See I have to tell you, I've come to burn your kingdom down. No rivers and no lakes can put my fire out. I'm gonna raise the stakes, I'm gonna smoke you out**."

On the opposite side of the field, one lone Imperial officer sat in a limp position in his chair, eyes locked onto the highest rise of the cliffs where a small figure had just disappeared from. It was at that figures appearance that a torrent of dread filled the aging man. All he could do was look at the rise, hoping, but not believing, that what he had seen was a product of his imagination. Of course, that was impossible. Years in the Imperial army had effectively driven out what ever childish imagination he may have had. His lamenting was disturbed by the footsteps of a man behind him. Barely turning his head, the elder man saw his second in command in his peripheral vision.

"Sir, is anything wrong?" _Foolish boy_. The second didn't understand the hopelessness of it all. The only thing the battle would bring tomorrow would be a swift defeat, and not in their favor.

"Boy, look out to where our enemies are amassing. The seven militias of Ulfric Stormcloak have never been defeated. How can you imagine having **seven devils all around you**, and you alone are responsible for the fate of the men they surround. **They were there when I woke up this morning**, just waiting in absolute silence, the sort of silence that drives a man mad with apprehension. You know what this silence means, boy? I means **that I'll be dead before the day is done**."

"Sir?" The young man looked at his superior with a glimmer of his inner innocence. By the end of this event he would no longer have the peace that the small amount of innocence brought, if he was even lucky enough to survive.

"That silence is **her melody, her final cry, her symphony**. Silence gives birth to the chaos she ensues."

"She?" _Poor, poor boy_.

"Angelus mortis, the Angel of Death. Without her Ulfric wouldn't have a chance against our forces. Unfortunately, he is favored by some very powerful higher beings, or - lower beings. Her skill is unsurpassed on the battle field, and in the shadows. She is a warrior and an assassin, and the best at both. Her battle strategies are prophetic and all that remains after a battle she had led is the corpses of our men far outnumbering the dead of the Stormcloaks."

"But she is mortal like the rest of us, a woman besides. No one as powerful as her can burn so brightly for so long. Her reign is coming to an end, and then we will have the perfect chance to strike."

"You cannot defeat those who were born of evil and conflict, boy. Our only hope is that she will be ultimately reclaimed by the darkness that gave her supremacy."

She was pleased with the plan she and the officers had formulated. It was going to be perfect, effective, and most importantly, make the Imperials regret that they had ever set foot in Skyrim. This was the final message to those bastards, and it was going to leave an impression in order to stop them forever. Studying the map of the battlefield intensely, she almost felt a hint of pity for the brutes. The small flags signifying the seven armies of Ulfric Stormcloak formed a less than half circle around her own black flag on the map. The single flag of the Imperials was a pathetic red marker that represented an equally pathetic force.

"**Seven devils all around you. Seven devils in my power**." She caressed the red flag with narrowed eyes. She gave a scream and violently knocked the flag to the ground. "You'll **be dead before the day is done**."

In a dark cave, a daedric prince cackled piercingly, the maniacal, demonic sound echoing harshly on the hard walls.

"This cave **can keep me high, 'til I tear the walls… 'til I save your heart**," she crooned, and petted the invisible organ in her hand, "**and to take your soul**." The cave walls glowed a brilliant red, the daedra prince sucked in a breath, gaining more strength as she did so. She once thought that this would be her prison for eternity. Now it seemed to be the perfect vessel for her chaos.

"**What have we done**?" She whispered to the cave, gently touching the crimson rocks. "**Can it be undone**?" She cackled again, the sound ripping through the fibers of the walls. Her hatred lashed out of her body and into the walls, causing the cave to shudder violently. "**In the evil's heart, in the evil's soul**, the destruction of humanity will be born."

The legion commander was shaken out of his thoughts by a terrified soldier, his eyes, wide with fear, reflected the flickering light of the lone candle illuminating the tent.

"What is it?" The commander demanded.

The soldier stuttered over his words but managed to get out "it's begun."

"WHAT?" The commander rose out of his chair, furious at the absurdity of the statement. "Even she isn't good enough to lead her forces to a victory while it is still so dark outside!" It had been an odd night in Skyrim. The lights that usually danced around in the night sky hadn't made an appearance. Even the wind from the sea had died down to an occasional stir.

"Sir, outside," the frightened soldier whispered and ran out the tent. The commander followed, confused. As soon as he emerged from his tent, his heart stooped for a brief moment. The horizon, opposite from the enemy encampment, was ablaze with a bright orange, growing brighter and larger by the second. With the dry grass of the large field providing a steady fuel for the fire, it would begin to reach the Imperial camp within minutes.

"Give the command to mobilize the camp. Everyone needs to leave, and fast. Pack as much as possible, but drop everything if the fire reaches us too soon. Run to the coast line." The soldier nodded and began yelling the commander's orders at the top of his lungs up and down the rows of tents, the urgency of the moment taking precedence over his terrified stutter.

The commander himself was only able to pack a fraction of his belongings and begin the exodus to the sea, along with his second and a few men lower down in the chain of command. All were running at full speed, their life depended on it. Their group was one of the first to glimpse the coastline, their hope of survival. This joyous feeling was immediately extinguished at the sight of hundreds of men along the coast, all with their weapons drawn. At the front, a small black-clad figure with an ebony blade balanced carelessly against her shoulder.

"Welcome, my lord Imperial," she spoke with sarcastic vehemence.

_Well played, Angelus, _the commander thought, all hope of survival for his men gone.

When the brilliant sun rose, its rays barely permeated the dirty haze that hung over the field. The wind that typically ripped through the valley was still, forcing the smell of rot to intensify as the hours went on. The beach close to the field was stained crimson, consequently changing the color of the water each time it lapped against the shore. The bodies of hundreds of men were covered with scavengers, feasting off of humanity's loss.

One man among the hundreds was the only survivor, left to suffer alone amidst the horror. He was not without wounds. The pain inflicted by them forced him to lie in agony beside his fallen friends. Not five feet from him, the commander, his hero, lay dead. The only thing the second could do was silently grieve, the desire for revenge growing slowly inside of him.

_You will be sorry for this, Angelus_.

A/N: I hoped you liked the first chapter and it wasn't too confusing, albeit a little dark.… Please review! I love constructive criticism, but please, no flames.


	2. Chapter 2, Shake It Out

_Hey everybody! So I have received a huge boost in confidence for writing again, and now that college is just about to resume, I'm trying to cram as much writing into a short time period. Because of this, I will try to finish the story within the next few months! ….. just don't hold me to that…. I hope that you all like this chapter, I didn't have time to edit it so please excuse any errors, I promise to fix them when I go back and edit all the chapters. On that note, enjoy and I'll try to get the next chapter up within the week! _

}~*~{

Four large figures gathered over a map in a dimly lit room. One shifted from foot to foot and another glanced around the room, as if expecting for their group to be caught in their conspiracy. The other two simply looked down at the table, arms crossed.

"She has to go," a darkly bearded man finely said, breaking the tangible silence.

"Is it really necessary?" the nervous eyed man asked, "She's, well, you know her reputation. She will find us and kill us the moment after she puts together the pieces."

"Not reputation, Jorleif, fact. So that means we need to strike fast. She's becoming too involved with Ulfric. So much so, that our presence in leading his kingdom will become obsolete."

"But how will convince Ulfric?" another asked. "He is not going to severe himself from her so easily."

"By pointing out the obvious, lad," the first speaker answered, so resolute with his decision as to take on the leadership role in this endeavor. "She's not human, anyone can tell that. And Skyrim doesn't need a crazy, blood thirsty monster taking control in the early, vulnerable stages in its independence. We need to purge the country of evils, starting with the imperial scum and her. She was critical when we needed a mindless killing soldier to lead the rebellion, but now, we need to drive her out before she infects the entire population, killing Imperial and Stormcloak alike, until nothing stands in the way of her total control.

The four then proceeded to plan their rebellion within the leadership. The only first step being to convince Ulfric of the contagion that the woman has become. She was no longer the blessing that arrived just in time to save the kingdom, she was a threat to its safety.

}~*~{

Ulfric sat in the quiet of his room, far above royal hall and the necessity of looking like he had everything under control, as this was far from the truth. His hands held his head, too weak from exhaustion and stress to hold up its own weight. He had needed to retire to the sanctuary of his room after the argument his four most trusted advisors had presented to him.

_**Regrets collect like old friends**__, and she may be biggest one of them all._ His eyes drifted to the fireplace and the floor before it. How many nights had he and Kaitja spent there together, relishing in each other pleasure, ignoring the outside world. Ulfric didn't like to keep a woman for long, but Kaitja… His desire for her had never dimmed from the first moment she strode up to his throne in the Great Hall, declaring that she would be the one to solidify his power and his rule. Typically he would have laughed off such a declaration, but there was a wild supremacy behind her eyes that made him swear her allegiance to Skyrim and his crown. She willingly accepted the allegiance, among other things. Once he set her to work, laying out the Imperial armies she needed to push out, he ignored the reports of brutalizations and massacres that occurred after one of her strikes. He never doubted his trust in her judgment and her use of his Stormcloak soldiers. She accomplished the mission, no questions asked. He liked that in a woman, hell, in any soldier.

His memory called to attention the letter he had received, connecting her to the decimation of a Stormcloak camp near Markarth. The image of her before him at her trial formed in his head, the conflicting emotions of desire and duty battled within him. **Here to relive your darkest moments**. Looking back now, he realized he had sacrificed his duty to the people of Skyrim and let his darker, animalistic emotions take control. That night she murmured empty promises of covering her mistakes with new glories. And he was too infatuated to doubt her. He had let that woman take over too much of his mind, and he needed to cut her out before she infected his entire mind.

"I can see no other way," he spoke to himself, more as an admittance of destiny then trying to convince himself of her guilt. _That_ was plain for any to see. He was a strong man and a strong warrior. He could not give any woman the capacity to cripple or sway his decisions. She confused him, more than any person he had met or heard of. One moment she could be as docile and sweet as a lamb, patiently listening to the troubles of the kingdom and offering council, but ultimately letting him decide his own choices and obeying them, as it should be. However, she could also be as heartless and violent as a man, even drawing blood if one of their disagreements became too heated. Only two things could compel her out of her bloodlust: draining her anger through violence or intimacy. When it came to her violence, he had turned a blind eye to the mysterious murder that had occurred in Windhelm during the night. The citizens had taken to locking themselves into their homes during these times, saying it was when **all of the ghouls come out to play**.

_Every demon wants his pound of flesh_, the line from an ancient poem came to mind and Ulfric winced at the truth behind the words.

His doubts of her had been hiding in his head for months. "**But I like to keep some things to myself, I like to keep my issues drawn**." But not anymore. The atrocities needed to be brought forth, she needed to be stopped_. __**I've been a fool and I've been blind, I can never leave the past behind, I'm always dragging that horse around. **__But tonight, tonight marks the end of this festering, malicious relationship. __**Tonight I'm gonna bury that horse in the ground.**_

Skyrim was in a dark place, but as they said, **it's always darkest before the dawn.**

}~*~{

A dark figure slammed open the small door of the Great Hall, the force of the motion almost impossible for a woman that slight. Her demon-red eyes flashed with burning anger as she left the suffocating confines of the large room for the bitter cold of the city. Flurries of snow rushed to collide with the stony ground but that didn't slow her step.

In the fury of rage, she knocked over any one who was in her way. A guard rushed up to arrest her for causing harm to the general populace. Unfortunately for him, he didn't recognize his target and soon fell victim to an attack. He was dead before he hit the ground, a slash to his throat.

She left the city without any further hindrance, the guards simply silent statutes as she walked past, some not ever daring to breathe.

"Damn you Ulfric Stormcloak," she yelled at the sky, at the edge of the icy cliffs. "Damn you straight to Oblivion." How dare he do this to her? She was nothing now. All her command and power stripped away by the man she trusted the most. _Should have known I could trust no one. __**I am done with my graceless heart, so tonight I'm gonna cut it out and then restart.**_

Her heart flared with hatred toward the so-called King. She was happy to be rid of him. He took in those who were powerful, enslaved them, and sucked them dry for his own benefit. It's hard to dance with a devil on your back, so shake him off. She stood up where she had fallen in desperation. She was angry, she was mad, and most importantly, she was looking for revenge.

_**It was a fine romance but its left me so undone.**_

Her mind filled with the blinding haze that only occurred when she let her darker side take over. Usually she attempted to fight it before it inevitably took possession of her thoughts, but tonight she succumbed almost instantly.

**It's always darkest before the dawn. **

}~*~{

A/N: How did you all like it? Please review with any recommendations, hugs, or whatever!


	3. Chapter 3, Lover to Lover

The woman lay on the hard bed, staring up at the ceiling with unfeeling eyes. She didn't move when the inn keeper pounded on the door, demanding she either leave, or find some way to pay the rent. She scoffed when she heard his solution for paying the rent without money. _Don't flatter yourself little man, I'm selective. _She was lying through her teeth. These past days, no man had been out of the question, and all of the city knew it. No one was complaining however, at least what she heard.

_**I've been losin' sleep,  
I've been keepin' myself awake,  
I've been wandering the streets,  
For days and days and days,**_

She rolled over to her side and curled into a small ball, trying to disappear beneath the scratchy wool blanket that covered her. Her body began to tremble with silent sobs, brought on by complete weariness and confusion. She didn't even know what town she was in. Never in her life had she felt so alone, so helpless, so used.

Kaitja lay in the warmth of her bed for the next hour, relishing in the security she felt there. She knew she had to leave quickly though, as she didn't have enough money to pay for another day. Slowly, she lifted herself out of the bed and knelt to collect her things hastily thrown on the floor and shove them into her cloth bag. She dug out her knives from the top drawer of the dresser and dispersed them into their hiding places within her clothing. Lastly, she reluctantly picked up a sack of coins on top of the dresser, and weighed it in her hand. _Generous_, she thought to herself. Everything collected, she left the room with quiet, quick footsteps. Sitting herself down at the bar, she dropped the sack of coins onto the wooden surface and took out a piece, and threw the rest of it in front of the inn keeper. He looked up at her with a horrendous smirk.

"Your rent?" he asked.

She only nodded in response, keeping her sight far from his eyes.

"Supplied by a," he narrowed his eyes with a smirk, "generous customer?"

Kaitja scowled at him. She hated that her darker side always took control, leaving Kaitja only able to watch herself in horror. These past few days had been the worst. _I've been __**row to row, back to back, lover to lover.**_

"Just gimme some ale," she demanded, and tossed her last coin at the man. He caught it and began filling up a grimy mug with the liquid. He placed it in front of her, some of the ale spilling from the top at the force, and he grabbed the coin purse and left, presumably to put it in his strong box. Luckily, this left Kaitja alone at the bar. While in her thoughts, she didn't notice the door to the inn swing open, letting in a tall, broad shouldered man, his footsteps not making a sound on the dirt floor. After he pulled up next to her at the bar, Kaitja snuck a glance at the newcomer. She could have sworn she recognized the auburn haired man with intense eyes, but she couldn't match up a memory with the face. Her eyes quickly darted back to the surface in front of her when she became aware he was staring at her also. Deciding it was a good time to go, she downed the rest of her drink and left the inn, her pace forcibly controlled to be slow and calm, but her body wanted her to race out of the building, away from the mysterious man whose presence set her on edge.

}~*~{

Brynjolf chuckled to himself as the slim woman rushed out of the inn, presumably away from him. He wondered why she didn't acknowledge him, or if she plain didn't remember him. _She was pretty drunk last night, _Brynjolf thought to himself with a smirk. He had hardly recognized the small, tired, drawn woman this morning as the same dynamic and passionate woman from last night. This morning she looked like a frightened lass rather than a powerful warrior. Something very bad must have occurred to cause this change. His brow creased with worry. He made a mental note that after his job was finished, he would make sure she was alright. She wouldn't be able to get too far within these short minutes.

Finally, the inn keeper returned from locking up his precious gold. Too bad he would soon have to take it out again.

Seeing the new customer, the innkeeper began his typical sales routine.

"Welcome to the Vilemyr Inn, sir. What can I get for you?"

Brynjolf pulled out a knife from its hiding spot within his armor and began cleaning his nails with it. He made sure to let the symbol carved on the blade to shine in the dim lighting of the room. He knew he got the message across when the innkeepers eyes widened and he began stuttering.

"I-I.. I told you I would have the-the money soon," Wilhelm backed away from the bar in an attempt to get as far away from the thief as possible.

"You told us that more than a month ago, Wilhelm, and the Thieves Guild is not in the practice of extending debts. Even if it is to outstanding citizens," he gave the shaking man a look over, "such as yourself. Now, I have given you a chance, but it is time to pay up, either with gold or-" Brynjolf looked at the dagger in his hand and back up to the other man.

"I-I have the g-gold. Just le- give me a ch-chance to get it," and he rushed around the corner to the back room. Brynjolf could hear the scraping of a key against metal and finally a "click" of a strongbox being opened. Wilhelm returned and held out three large bags of gold as far away from his body as possible.

"H-here you g-go. Just don't hurt me."

Brynjolf snatched the bags and pocked the money. He dipped his head. "Pleasure doing business with you," he replied in his low voice, and immediately left the inn. His thoughts again returned to the lass. He knew he didn't any responsibility over her, but for some reason, he felt a semblance of duty to make sure she was safe. By the look of her tracks, she took the road that led to Riften. _Oh, the irony_, he thought and began the trek, keeping his eyes out for her.

}~*~{

Kaitja didn't know why she was walking on this road. As soon as she left the inn she only knew she needed to start walking, and fast. She needed an activity to keep her mind occupied; not racing with questions like it was doing in the inn. Anything to keep her mind off the desperation and depression she had fallen into. Walking hadn't helped. At all. If anything it allowed her to concentrate more and more on the memories, or lack thereof, from the past… how long had it been since she had full control over herself. It could have been weeks, or months, since she was last in Windhelm.

Kaitja paused. Just thinking about that city sent every nerve in her body on fire with hatred. Soon, however, the anger fell away to panic. She considered all the places she had been, all the people she had been with, how reckless she had let herself become. _**I've been taking chances, I've been setting myself up for the fall. **__Why did I give full power to the hatred that fuels me? _The thought of the lack of memory filled her consciousness. _**It's been keeping secrets, from my heart and from my soul.**_

From her vantage point she could see a river and lake stretching on for miles. The clouds in the sky reflected off of the still lake. She continued on toward the river but tripped and fell over a protruding rock, cutting her leg on its jagged edge. Panic for her safety should have filled her mind, but all she could do was stare at the deep red forming from the wound. The livid red contrasted with the calm blue of the sky and the pure white clouds. _It must be so peaceful up there; a relief from this spiteful and cruel world. _A few birds danced through the low hanging clouds. Blissfully unaware of the horrid and painful world below_. _How amazing it would be to live as a bird, disconnected from the vices of the earthly realm, able to visit the kingdom of the sky anytime they wished. The gods must only let the most pure souls to become birds. Only the deserving would be given the gift of flight. Her heart sank at this realization.

_**There's no salvation for me now,  
No space among the clouds,  
And I've seen that I'm heading down,  
But that's alright,  
That's alright...**_


	4. Chapter 4, Never Let Me Go

Disclaimer: I don't own anything Skyrim, all new characters belong to me though!

Flashback:

Kaitja gasped as she awoke in a strange room, the sounds of a bustling city outside the window could be heard. She sat up and relished in the ability to control her own movements and the feeling of freedom it gave her. The thing inside of her had been taking over more and more as the days passed. As she looked around the room again, the features reminded her that she was in Whiterun. Good, she hadn't left the city without knowing it.

She used to love the feeling of slipping under the power of her stronger side. The ability to lose her worries and fears and let the all-powerful persona take over was something that she frequently let happen. The feeling of water that wrapped all around her and took over her consciousness used to be warm and inviting. _**It's peaceful in the deep, cause either way you cannot breathe, no need to pray, no need to speak. **_

Sometimes, the water wouldn't take away her awareness, and she would watch as things unfolded in front of her, as if she was watching a play from her own perspective, but she had no control over the dialogue or actions. _**Though the pressure's hard to take, it's the only way I can escape, it seems a heavy choice to make. **_She had watched herself kill hundreds of people like this. Soldiers, lords, innocents. They all ended the same. She knew it was wrong, yet she couldn't keep away from the comfort that the water brought.

She recalled the feeling of the transition.

_**The arms of the ocean are carrying me, and all this devotion was rushing over me,  
and the question to heaven, for a sinner like me**_, she laughed at the thought of the chance at happiness in the life to come after this one. Whatever lay beyond this earthly habitation, the gods were going to make her suffer for her sins.

As if sensing her distress, the comforting feeling began taking over her mind once again and she welcomed it with open arms. She needed the water to banish the guilt of her past actions.

_**And it's over,  
And I'm going under,  
But i'm not giving up!  
I'm just giving in.**_

A/N: I know that 'heaven' isn't the word for paradise in Skyrim, but it's in the song so I have to keep it.


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